"Can a fellow get on that one o'clock Chicago train from here?" asked Sam, of the ticket man.
"Yes, if he's got a ticket," was the reply. "I'll have to signal it to stop though."
"Well, I'll let you know about it as soon as I see my brother. He is coming in on the eleven-thirty."
It had begun to rain by the time the last-named train rolled in. Only three passengers got off, but one of them was Dick. He had a suitcase with him, and he fairly ran to meet Sam and Songbird.
"Any more news?" he demanded.
Sam related the particulars of what had occurred. In the meantime the train had gone on and the station was deserted by all but the ticket man.
"Going to lock up now," he said to the boys, who had gathered in the station, out of the rain.
"Wait just one minute please," pleaded Sam.
"Here, go out and get some cigars for yourself," added Dick, and passed over a quarter.
"Thanks, I will," returned the ticket man, and walked off to an all-night resort not far from the station.